Scorpion, a Black and Blue story
by Orion Lyonesse
Summary: When Vila walks back into his life, Avon doesn't pause to wonder why. He just wants Vila back with him. Vila/Avon implied. Angst aplenty.


A/N: _No, I don't own the characters. Even this long after the series, though, I still like to play in their universe_.

"Vila?!" Avon sounded surprised and even, perhaps, pleased to see the thief again after all these years. Standing there, framed by the door, Avon presented a slim and elegant picture in his black silk tunic and leather pants with silver piping. His black hair was touched by silver now. He looked like a successful if eccentric businessman, which, in a way, he was.

"May I come in?" Vila prompted, arching an eyebrow, when the man remained silent.

Avon blinked once, then stepped aside, gesturing his former lover in with an graceful wave of his hand. The thief was just as handsome as he'd remembered, though it was odd to see him with chestnut hair brushing the collar of his brown tunic. He was a bit thinner than before, but nicely so. The tech watched as Vila confidently walked into the hotel room and quickly appraised the expensive appointments. Avon almost laughed out loud to see Vila's familiar mannerisms. It was clear that he was 'casing the joint.'

Once a thief, always a thief, he thought fondly.

Finally Avon gave in to the urge that he'd kept firmly in check since opening the door. He needed to get close to Vila, needed to breathe in his scent, needed to know...a lot of other things.

Moving away from the door, he silently came up behind the man and, not quite bringing their bodies together, breathed softly into Vila's ear, "A drink, perhaps?"

Vila held absolutely still, neither turning to Avon nor flinching at his unexpected closeness.

"Okay," he replied, his voice carefully neutral, studiously not revealing the turmoil within him that threatened to expose his fears, his hopes, his plans, to this man who had meant so much to him.

Avon moved away, wondering. Why has he come now? Where has he been all these years? I tried to trace him after I…became successful. I could have given him everything---a new life, new identity, safety, but he just…disappeared after our quarrel. I wasn't even sure he was alive. That hurt. Maybe now…

His thoughts trailed off. At the moment, he didn't quite know what he hoped, now that he'd found Vila again.

Quickly he fixed the man's favorite, adrenalin and soma, the green liquid sparkling in the tall crystal glass, his own very expensive whiskey in a shorter version.

Handing Vila his drink, Avon gestured him to a seat. Looking around, Vila chose the sofa, and Avon joined him, a careful distance between them. Crossing one leg over the other toward Vila, Avon rested his arm along the cushioned back.

Vila sat on the edge of the sofa, not looking at Avon. He toyed with his glass, absently appraising the patterned platinum band around the top and stem of the glass. This one glass probably cost more than the average family made in a week.

Avon watched him, easily reading his body language and noting the tension across Vila's shoulders. Maybe he's not used to such opulence. I am, though, and can give it all to him, if he'll let me, Avon thought smugly.

Though Vila's finding him did niggle at his mind. It's not like he was listed or known anywhere by his own name. When Vila's silence continued, Avon's curiosity got the better of him. He had to ask. "How did you find me, Vila? It's been years and I don't use my own name anymore."

"I…have my own network of sources, just like in the old days, before we left Earth. Whenever you needed information that wasn't in computers, you came to me, didn't you?" A brief smile of remembrance lit his face, gone just as quickly.

Avon laughed. "So I did. Glad to see you're keeping your hand in. Still thieving, then?"

"Oh, no. Well," he amended, "not much. I've given that mostly up."

That gave Avon pause. What could get Vila to give up thieving? It was in the man's blood. He had to steal in the same way as he had to breathe.

"Then," Avon began cautiously, "what are you doing now?"

Several moments of silence passed before Vila answered, his voice quiet and colorless.

"Until recently, I was…married."

Avon read Vila's pain, but…a woman? Married? Well, he considered, Vila always did like to chase them, but to marry one?

Bending closer, he asked carefully, "It…ended? Against your will?"

"Oh yes, very much against my will." Vila's head came up, his eyes naked and bleak. "There doesn't seem to be a future for me now."

Something jerked at Avon's heart. He never could stand to see Vila unhappy.

"She just…left you?"

"He…'s gone."

Oh, thought Avon, light and hope dawning together. So there was still a chance. A chance for them to be together.

"I could…offer you a future, Vila. With me. Just like in the old days. I've…missed you, since you left…after our quarrel."

Vila's hands still from fidgeting with his drink. He looked up into Avon's deep brown eyes, his expression unreadable to the dark man.

Avon continued, "I…looked for you then and…after I became successful." Suddenly it was Avon who felt shy before this man he'd loved off and on for decades.

Unsure of what to do or say next, Avon stood abruptly, going to fetch the cut crystal decanters to renew both their drinks. Refilling their glasses, he sat down again, nearer to Vila this time.

Clearing his throat against an unfamiliar tightness, Avon offered, "I want you back, Vila. I can give you everything you've ever wanted and more. I'm quite wealthy now. In fact," he paused to sip his drink, "I just finished a very lucrative deal here and I'd like you to help me celebrate. May I order us dinner?"

Vila remained silent through all this, simply staring as Avon proposed the unthinkable in such a reasonable voice. In the end, he nodded, too numb to speak.

Avon sprang up and excused himself to have dinner brought up. Vila heard him order an array of fine wines, champagne, and exotic, imported foods. A veritable feast for just the two of them.

He really IS celebrating, Vila thought. Mentally, he shrugged. Dinner was as good a way as any to pass the time they had left.

Vila came out of his reverie to find Avon quite close, standing before him almost indecisively. After staring down for a moment, Avon asked hesitantly, "Vila, may I kiss you?"

Startled equally that the man would ask and not just take, and by the very idea of kissing this person, Vila couldn't answer.

Taking silence as assent, Avon bent and gently brushed Vila's lips with his own. When the man didn't respond, Avon bent, pressing Vila against the back of the sofa, deepening the kiss.

After his initial shock, Vila found himself, completely, against his will, responding in the old ways to the old stimulus.

Avon sighed, releasing Vila. Smiling that sultry smile which used to turn Vila's knees to jelly, Avon said, "The magic's still there, isn't it, Vila? We can just pick up where we left off, as though nothing had happened --- no quarrel, no years of separation. Just like before," he enthused, pacing away and taking a turn around the room. He pick up his drink and tossed it down before he returned to the seated man.

His voice calm, Vila replied, "No, I don't think so, Avon."

His words stopped Avon cold in his tracks. Confusion flittered across his high brow, collecting between his dark eyebrows. He couldn't have read the situation wrong, could he? It was obvious to Avon that Vila wanted back together with him. How could he not want that?

"But…you came back to me," he said. "Why else would you seek me out and let me kiss you like that?"

"Recognize the name Pados Andarian?" Vila looked up at Avon, holding the dark man's eyes, waiting for a reaction.

Avon's whole body went still for a moment before he forced himself to relax. It was instinctive. In his line of work it didn't pay to let the other person know what you were feeling or thinking.

"Why, yes. He's the one I killed this morning." His voice was dispassionate, cold even. He'd done his job well, hadn't he? There was nothing to be ashamed of. He was good at what he did. He almost laughed as he continued. "His own party paid me, Scorpion, to eliminate the man. Seems he had too many ethics and morals for their taste and he was getting too much attention and power. Why?" He quirked an eyebrow at Vila, sitting so still…and alone, somehow, as if he and the sofa were isolated in the middle of an open field.

"Did you check on his family, by any chance?"

Avon's face took on a remembering look as his mind scanned the file he'd memorized before coming to Lothin. "Up and coming politico. No children. Married to a woman named Durag," he recited the dust dry facts.

"Wrong."

"What?" That startled him and pricked at his pride. "I checked the data myself. What could be wrong?"

Vila paused to finish his own drink, then rose and approached Avon, intentionally invading the man's personal space, which he knew the assassin hated. His eyes were serious, though a smile played at the corners of his mouth, as though he knew something Avon didn't and wasn't quite ready to reveal it yet.

"How do you feel, Avon?" he asked. "Just a bit nauseous? Light headed? Fuzzy about the edges?"

Avon shook his head, suddenly realizing he did feel as Vila said. He moved around Vila and sat abruptly on the sofa, his breath becoming more labored and harsh by the minute. Finally, losing control completely, he slid off the couch to lie helpless on the floor, eyes gazing upward in agony.

Vila approached and knelt beside the stricken man, raising and propping him up against the furniture.

Finding that he could no longer speak, Avon's eyes asked, "Why?"

"My name's Durag," Vila said almost gently. "You killed my husband this morning. I couldn't let you go on killing." Vila sat back unsteadily on his heels. He reached a hand to the coffee table to steady himself. "The poison was in your drink…and in mine as well. I won't survive you long, but then, I've nothing to live for now, have I?

"I did love you, at one time, Avon," he explained softly, "but that was long ago. I had to stop you. When you started killing for money and we quarreled, I should have killed you then instead of just leaving you."

Vila's warm brown eyes filled with regret. "So many people would be alive today if I had…especially Pados."

As though Avon had asked him a question, Vila replied, "Oh, I know poison is the coward's way, but you told me often enough that I was a coward."

Seeing Avon's eyes grow opaque, Vila leaned forward to close them. Unnoticed, a single tear escaped his iron control, to fall on Avon's beautiful silent lips.

Lowering the body to the carpet, Vila lay down beside his former lover and, shortly, ceased to breathe.


End file.
